Archives for June 2007

Friday, just as I was tucking in Pumpkin for her nap, The Princess went skipping off to play with the neighbor (yes, the same snotty neighbor who wanted my daughter to rid the sandbox of ants – see, I knew it wouldn’t be long before my kid had dropped the grudge! But… I’m still carrying it).

My house was quiet. There were no kids to care for. No snacks to be made. No juice boxes to be opened. No diapers needing changing.

Wow.

I was able to get a big chunk of a project for work done. Awesome. I was able to sweep and scrub the floors in the kitchen, mudroom, laundry room and bathroom. Yay me. I read a bit of my book. I added some music to my iTunes library. I started the homemade dough for our pizza dinner. I sat around doing nothing. I caught up on blog-reading. I cleaned the living room a bit.

And nearly three hours later when Pumpkin woke up, The Princess was still playing with her friend. Hubby had arrived home at that time with Stepson, so I was able to then go out for a walk.

To have that huge chunk of time for myself makes me so optimistic about this fall. The Princess starts kindergarten in September, and for kindergarten the schedule is either Monday/Wednesday with every other Friday, or Tuesday/Thursday with every other Friday. School runs all day. This means that two, sometimes three days a week, I am going to have these blocks of time where one kiddo is napping and one isn’t home. Wow. That I’m actually going to be able to get a good chunk of work done DURING THE DAY versus working for hours after the kids go to bed (every night) is pretty thrilling. Even having time to decompress, put on the headphones and pick up around the house or start dinner prep without someone asking for a glass of chocolate milk. I mean, what on earth am I gonna do with myself?

I’m not fooling myself into thinking Pumpkin’s gonna take three hour naps every day, but, goodness, I’m somewhat excited by it all. I feel bad looking forward to the time The Princess will be at school, but you know: I am excited for her too. I wouldn’t be this thrilled if I didn’t know that she was going to have an awesome time in kindergarten. She’s going to love it. She’s going to love school. And she’s going to do just fine. I think these are going to be great times for us both.

Since I have two daughters, people have always told me how we were in for “trouble” when they each hit about 10 years old – how boys are far easier than girls, and how it was going to be difficult for us with daughters who get all hormonal and moody and nasty and all of that.

The Princess is five, so I figured I had a good few years left before the mood descended upon our house.

Wrong-o.

But you know who the culprit is? NOT my girls. Stepson. I realize that boys go through puberty too, and that they have hormonal things going on, but by golly if Stepson is not acting like the biggest goober – and all day long I have been thinking to myself, “Does he have PMS?!” He has burst into tears about three times today – and to be honest, sexist though it may be, I am just not used to seeing that much emotion from boys (even grown boys…ahem, MEN). I think there is a fine line between healthy showing of emotion and crybaby. Stepson definitely stepped over that line today.

I couldn’t tell if we were coming or going with him. This morning, Hubby had to run to a client’s office, and then back to his office to drop off some paperwork. He had debated stopping home after the client visit, picking up Stepson and taking Stepson with him to the office. He told me he’d call and check with me first, see how I was holding up – and then make the decision whether or not he’d come here. When he called, the kids were playing nicely and life was fine – I figured, Hubby need not stop. He could go to his office and back much quicker by himself, so, I’d hold down the fort. Stepson had apparently thought it was a done-deal that Hubby was coming home for him, and when I said that wasn’t the case, he started sobbing that it was “BULL!” and I “had no right” to tell Hubby not to come home for Stepson. I let him do the drama stuff – he ran off to his room, I left him alone.

Meanwhile, I was thinking, “Huh?”

You see, I honestly don’t think I had any idea that boys got this way too. And I know that my stepson is by far not the “typical” boy – he does tend to be emotional, and he is young for his age, but he was as moody as I tend to be, um, once a month, and I didn’t know what to do besides stay the hell away (which is always what I prefer people do for me. Unless they have cookies. Or Chex Mix).

We had another incident this afternoon that involved tears. The reason for that one is so stupid I dare not even post it, but did include Stepson bursting into tears and trying to throw down the f-bomb. NO CHILD will use that word in my house and think it’s okay. I don’t swear much, and I don’t swear in front of my kids, and I certainly don’t swear in front of my parents and I’m thirty. It’s a respect thing. Respect me enough to hold your tongue and not use that language. I can tolerate it from my peers, I can’t from a kid. And Hubby felt the same way, which is why Stepson was having to pound out 25 pushups while Hubby was telling him that such language was not acceptable in our house. (I love my military husband – pushups are a frequent method of “punishment” here).

This evening, Stepson ran off in tears because a lightbulb is burned out and he is, in his words, “pathologically afraid of the dark.” The irony of him thinking he’s man enough to use the “f-word” and still kid enough that he’s crying about a dark hallway, blows my mind.

I honestly never expected such hormonal shifts from a boy. I have no idea if this is normal (any mom’s of boys out there willing to shed some light on these creatures?!), I only know that after going through this with Stepson, I will definitely be old-hat at it by the time either of my girls hit puberty.

Seems like life is getting away with me these days. Summer is not the fun it was back when I was in school and summer meant no teachers, no work, no nothing. Instead, summer for me now is more work, as The Princess is home all day every day, rather than at school, and I’m trying to coordinate things to do to keep us all from going nutso. (School starts September 4!)

The 90 degree weather we’ve had hasn’t helped. The humidity makes it completely miserable to be outside, and face it, I’m not really an outdoor-girl anyway. Today, we’re expecting temps in the mid-70s, which is bearable and even pleasant, as far as I’m concerned. Bring it on. Might be nice for the kids to get outside a bit.

To add to my “joy”, Stepson is here for a full week this week. This is always stress-inducing because Hubby works full time and we’ve had to juggle just exactly where Stepson will be and when. Fact is, I can’t watch all three kids all day and survive! The Princess and Stepson fight quite constantly (which annoys me to no end, to be perfectly honest – he antagonizes her quite a bit, and she gives it right back). It gets too hard to have all three kids, when I have a bit of a groove for my two, so Hubby has had to do some shuffling with his schedule to make it work.

Saturday night, as I tried to fall asleep, I lay in bed sobbing, dialing Hubby at his hotel room in Chicago: “I am soooooooo lonely!”

Hubby was on a business trip (he came home last night – yaaaaahoo!), and the girls were with my mom, as I spent all day getting my friend ready for her wedding, and then I was at the wedding and reception. Initially, I thought it would be easiest if the girls spent the night with my mother, so I wouldn’t have to pick them up post-wedding, so I could sleep off the effects of the day without having to worry about one or both of them waking me up. I wanted to sleep HARD (I’ll have to post later about the wedding and why that was so necessary, but to be honest, it was a hard day, and somewhat emotionally draining – and not in a good way that weddings should get your emotions going – I’m still sort of coming down from it).

I returned home from the festivities at about 10:30ish. I planned to take a nice hot bath, and go hit the hay. I talked to Hubby, said goodnight, curled up in bed….

And realized I had never spent the night in this house alone. Granted, if the girls were home, they’d have been sleeping. The house wouldn’t have been any less quiet. I wouldn’t have had anything I needed to do. But, it hit me that I was alone, and it freaked me out. I was ready, at nearly midnight, to hop into the car, go to my mom’s house and pick up my little monkeys. I didn’t do that. I ended up calling Hubby, letting him calm me down, and then falling asleep, where I slept hard – but only for about 6 hours.

Yesterday, I was up bright and early, got a quick two mile walk, took a VERY quick shower, and raced over to get my little peeps. I’m so glad to have them home!

The Princess came home from a friend’s house this evening, upset that her friend had another friend over, and the two little girls essentially “ganged up” on my girl, causing her to feel left out, hurting her feelings, and really making her feel bad.

I’m a girl. I know girls do this. It sucks. And I really REALLY tried to not gloss it over and completely hate on the little neighbor (brat!) who made my kid feel this way.

But, when she tells my daughter to “take all the ants out of the sandbox” and THEN she can play with them?

I’m mad. What a little snot. This mama bear is just ticked.

The thing is, I know that by tomorrow, The Princess will have forgotten this. She’ll be fine. She’ll be wanting to play with her buddy again, and I’ll have to keep my mouth shut and not get upset that she is basically putting herself in the (figurative) line of fire again. I’m struggling because my girl is only 5, and it’s just gonna get worse.

The receptionist at my doctor’s office informed me yesterday that perhaps breakfast preparation is not “my thing” and maybe, just maybe, I should stick to Cheerios. Yeah. Good thinking.

Yesterday, as I was cutting a bagel for breakfast I had the bagel in my left hand and the big old sharp knife in my right (I have since realized that perhaps this is not the most intelligent way to slice a bagel – hindsight being 20/20 and all). I was sawing through the bagel and Ack! Sliced the top of my left ring finger.

Ouch.

Ouch.

Ouch.

(And boy howdy, was that freakin’ stupid).

After wrapping up the wound with tons of gauze to stop the blood, I then proceeded to toast the evil bagel and eat it (Hubby was in fact pretty impressed: “Look on the bright side – you didn’t bleed on your breakfast!”). Then, called the doctor’s office.

Because the cut was so clean and I wasn’t quite sure how deep it was, I figured I’d better go be sure I didn’t need stitches. The PA who looked at it told me that because of its proximity to my finger nail, stitching would be extremely difficult, so I’ve got it held together with those little bitty steri-strips, and wrapped in gauze to keep it dry (So you can imagine how much fun I’m having typing – it’s like I’ve got a marshmallow at the end of my finger – me and the Backspace key are buddies today).

As I was gearing to leave the office, the receptionist says, “First the cocoa, and now this…” Okay. I know. I’m not the most graceful being first thing in the morning. Haven’t I suffered enough? Insult to injury and all that?!

Today, I’m doing better – the finger still hurts a bit, but it looks worse than it feels, and that’s a good thing. I will be investing in one of those fancy-schmancy bagel cutter things. Or…. buy presliced bagels. Breakfast is just not my thing.

This weekend, I really wanted to go to a movie, but my sniffling and snorting made me think I had best postpone those plans until I was feeling slightly more well. I ended up renting Catch & Release, which I wanted to like, I really did – but it was bad. Very bad. I want to like Jennifer Garner, because I think it’s cool that she keeps covered up and seems so normal. The movie also had Kevin Smith – who I generally like. But seriously? Ick.

**

This morning, The Princess telling me about this show on TV: the embarassing bears. (Took a minute – I figured it out – she was referring to “The Berenstain Bears”). That girl.

**

It’s hotter than hot here. Supposed to hit 90 today and I’m not sure what the humidity is, but I am opting to sit inside in the A/C until Hubby gets home. We may try to get Pumpkin in my mother’s pool again. If not, we’re all putting on our swimsuits and lounging in my new bathtub with cool water, because – I HATE SUMMER AND IT’S TOO HOT.

**

There’s Chex Mix in the house and I just want to eat it all. I love Chex Mix. It’s addictive. I just don’t like those brown rye chippy things. But I eat them anyway because I’m a Chex Mix addict.

**

My friend is getting married on Saturday and so I have to figure out how I’m gonna juggle my weekly stuff that I normally have going on, my work stuff, getting a Mystic Tan (Hi Emily!), getting my eye brows waxed, maybe getting a pedicure, deciding what kind of hair do I want, and… Oy. Oh – and be a mom, too. I’m gonna need a weekend after my weekend.

Yes. My toe hurts. Really badly. My big toe on my left foot. Hubby asked me, “Why are you limping?” ‘Cuz it hurts! I don’t know what I did, or why it hurts, or what to do to make it stop hurting, besides sit on my butt doing nothing. Seems to help.

I’ve spent the better part of this week being sick. I suppose it would be more appropriate to say I’ve spent the MAJORITY of this week being sick – because there’s nothing “better” about the way I’ve felt… but… it’s my blog and I’ll ramble on endlessly without logic if I wanna. It’s been rough going. Staying home with the kids when I’m not feeling well, and I’m tired, and I can’t breathe through my nose, and I’m coughing up lung fragments every two seconds, well… It’s just not easy. Staying home with two kids when I’m in perfect health isn’t easy – so factor in the previous mentioned issues, and you can see how this week has been a struggle. Fortunately, Hubby was home today to lend a hand and lighten the load. It enabled me to attend an appointment this morning KID-FREE (yahoo!), which in turn shortened the length of time I was out by about 45%, I would think. In fact, I was able to get out the door so fast this morning, I was able to make an unplanned Starbucks detour, where…

The barrista who used to make my cappuccino for me every Friday morning when I used to work outside the home (before Pumpkin was born) was there. And she remembered me. And asked, “HEY? Why don’t you ever come here anymore?!” Hubby says that is a sure sign I go to Starbucks too often.

I’m feeling a bit better today: not nearly as stuffy, not nearly as queasy. Still a bit queasy and stuffy, but, a bit better. Yesterday, I upgraded from my good-girl no salt saltines (yes, that’s what I usually buy), and bought the salty Zesta saltines. Yum. Nothing like saltines when you’ve got a tummy ache. Ooh, and I bought 7Up, also. The old standbys. Nothin’ like ’em.

Needless to say, I’ve eaten pretty much all carbs the past few days because that’s about all my poor tummy can tolerate… All that refined flour and I’m puffed up like the Good Year. But whatever. I’m sick. I can be puffy and bloated.

Had a truly genius idea to take my kids to my mom’s house to swim yesterday. Figured having my mom and her husband helping me out with the girls would give me a bit of a break. It would’ve had Pumpkin not hated the pool. Two seconds after her big toe hit the water, she was shaking her head and crying, “I all done! I all done!” The Princess is such a little fish – loves the pool, will play in it for seven hours straight if I let her. Pumpkin – not so much. I ended up sitting on the side of the pool with Pumpkin, trying to coax her to sit with me and kick her feet in the water. No really success… but the bright side is that it tuckered out the kids so much they both zonked out right at bedtime. A plus.

And finally – from the “Smells Like Hypocrisy” category: The Princess attended her first cheerleading class on Wednesday. I know, I know. I hated dance. I hated the fluff. However, I saw the flyer for cheerleading, and I was just as excited as she was. I guess this is when I ‘fess up and let you all know I was voted Most School Spirit 1994. Yes. I was a cheerleader. A rah-rah. A peppy-obnoxious spirity girl. Yes. I was. I loved it. I was good at it. And so, yes, part of me likes that The Princess wanted to try it out. We’ll see how it goes. So far, it seems harmless. I may change my mind. I find I have changed my mind on a lot of things now that I’m a mother.

Last night, Hubby came home from Stepson’s baseball game with an invite to a family member’s wedding (apparently my inlaws were at the game and passed the invitation on to us because Hubby’s cousin claimed she didn’t have our address, never mind the fact that we live in the same town and are in the phone book – but… I digress).

The invitation was worded so that the bride and her intended, as well as her mother and stepfather, and his parents, and the bride’s deceased dad invited us to share the day. Yes, the “late Charles” wished to share the special day with us.

Um, gross.

I like to think I’m fairly versed on wedding invitation wording etiquette. Goodness knows, it was a mess trying to work out the wording for our invite (with me and two sets of parents, and Hubby’s one set of parents, plus the fact that Hubby and I were hosting and not our parents, and…. Again, I digress). I spent a lot of time on the various wedding websites trying to find the correct wording, and I spent a lot of time with my nose buried is those gigantic bridal magazines. I’d like to think I know a thing or two.

I’ve even been to weddings where the bride or groom has chosen to honor family members who had passed – and did so in such amazing, thoughtful ways. Having the dead parent included as someone inviting us to share the day? Please tell me that I’m not nuts – that this is just plain weird.

I had a miserable day today. Pumpkin and I were on the cusp of totally-feeling-crappy yesterday and teetered right over the edge into BLAH today. She was up at about 2:15 this morning with a tremendous fever and a hoarse cough. After I was able to tuck her back in, it took me quite some time to fall asleep again (this is the norm for me).

Awoke at six realizing that, yup. This was not going to be my finest day. My nose is stuffed up and running, alternately. My head hurts. My stomach is queasy. I’m exhausted. I’ve got a cough. Pumpkin’s nose was running. Her appetite was gone (in fact, it wasn’t until about 12:30 this afternoon when she FINALLY ate – three spoon fulls of Mac & Cheese). She has a raging cough.

I wasn’t feeling like Mom of the Year when I finally tucked Pumpkin in for her nap, and decided to let The Princess watch an obscene amount of TV so I could catch a few Zzzzzzz’s myself.

It would figure I’d feel like this on Tuesday. My first Tuesday night to go out sans kids. I didn’t even WANT to go by the time Hubby got home. I had previously been thinking I would go to a movie (I have a few I’ve been really anxious to see)… but then figured all my sniffling and coughing would drive the other people in the theater nuts. And, well, I didn’t know if I would make it all the way through a flick. BUT, I was DETERMINED: I would leave the house, and I would leave the house WITHOUT ANY SHORT PEOPLE.

So I did.

I went to Panera Bread, grabbed a salad for dinner (the teenage goober taking my order messed up, so I also got a freebie asiago cheese bagel sitting in my fridge for me to eat for breakfast – awesome). I then went to Target and spent an insane amount of money on Father’s Day cards (for my dad from me, from the kids, for my grandfather, for my mom’s husband, for HUBBY – of course – from me and from the kids… blah blah blah). Then, even though Hubby insisted he needed no gifts for Father’s Day, I did pick him up a few things (from the kids, of course). Because, yes, he needed a few things, whether he knows it or not (Chances are he doesn’t know it, but that’s what wives are for).

I came home and the kids were bathed, Pumpkin had actually eaten a decent dinner (progress!), and she was even in excellent spirits – perky and happy.

I, on the other hand, still feel like crud. But at least I got my Tuesday night.